


snatched away in a snow storm

by lizzie_pj



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Baxley, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Romance, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 13:40:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7317466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizzie_pj/pseuds/lizzie_pj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One morning over breakfast, Miss Baxter remembers how she spent the previous night getting more or less caught in a snow storm. My first attempt at switching back and forth between flashbacks and the present, so I hope it doesn't confuse people. Baxley with some Thomas, as usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	snatched away in a snow storm

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: After almost getting lost in my AU after having completed a chapter that left me rather emotionally drained, I was in desperate need of some canon fluff. So, here's what comes from it.
> 
> Sorry for the winter setting, btw – due to (for me) almost unbearable heat in the past days, the thought of snow somehow refreshes me a little.
> 
> It's no masterpiece, but I hope you still enjoy another attempt of mine on Baxley.
> 
> Flashbacks are in italics.

That morning, Ms. Baxter slept later than usually. So, opposing to her regular morning schedule, she saw to her Ladyship first thing after getting up and entered the servant's hall for breakfast when almost all the others had already left or were just on their way out to their respective duties. Only Mr. Barrow was still calmly seated at the head end of the table, savoring the feeling of superiority that particular seating position held. His promotion to head butler of Downton Abbey had been only two months ago, Thomas still felt the urge to make sure that everyone knew just who was the head of the household at any given opportunity. #

So, when Baxter sat down in her usual seat at the table, Thomas watched her carefully with a raised eyebrow that silently questioned her about her changed routine. For the moment, she chose to ignore the butler's inquiring frown and instead concentrated on her breakfast. Still, her thoughts couldn't help but wander back to the previous night…

* * *

 

_It had become a regular occurrence for her to meet Mr. Molesley on her half-day off during those last few months since he had left the Abbey. Lately, they had found the Scented Cottage Tearoom in the village to be the perfect spot for their weekly encounters. The small café was just quiet enough for them to talk about recent gossip from the Abbey or the village and to discuss their latest reading experiences. Ms. Baxter rather enjoyed being able to talk about the books she read. Even more so because it was Mr. Molesley with whom she shared the same passion._

_She had often wondered whether she liked to read so much because it gave her the chance to spend time with Mr. Molesley or whether she relished their time together so much because she got to talk about books._

_When Baxter had entered the warm, cozy room of the teashop that afternoon, she took a moment to get out of her coat before she stepped further in. The walk down from the Abbey had completely drenched her in snowflakes which she definitely didn't want to scatter all over the floor._

_Soon, she spotted Molesley who had already taken a seat at their usual table near the front window. He, too, had noticed her arrival immediately, acknowledging her with a smile and a wave of his hand._

_"Good afternoon, Ms. Baxter", he stood up and greeted her when she had approached the table, "That's quite the weather outside, isn't it?"_

_Baxter sighed. Even after their meetings had become so frequent, he was still a little awkward at the beginning every time. If it had been anyone else, she would have found his nervousness a little too annoying but surprisingly enough, in the case of Mr. Molesley she didn't mind. "I almost wanted to call it off today", she apologetically shrugged, "The weather really is terrible and it doesn't look at all as if the snowing will stop any time soon. But then, I couldn't stand you up, could I?"_

_Molesley shook his head, "Oh no, I wouldn't have minded at all, if you had thought it wiser to stay at home. After all, I've heard that a rather nasty storm is going to come. And I wouldn't want you out in there, then – the last thing I would want is for you to catch a cold because of me. I'd hate for you to miss our next meeting because you're ill and it would be a pity not to see you for a whole two weeks because of it."_

_"Mr. Molesley", she said, her voice soft but with an underlying warning tone that told him he was starting to skate on thin ice there, "let's not talk about that, now. I'm here now and I would much rather you told me what you think of that new book you brought." She pointed to the book that was lying on the table._

* * *

 

Thinking of the afternoon now, Baxter was still surprised at how fast the hours had passed while they had been talking. It was always that same pattern with Mr. Molesley. After he had overcome the initial nervousness conversation would come easily to both of them. They always shared a pot of peppermint tea and some scones and biscuits until they would realize that, once more, time had flown by with neither of them consciously noticing.

Normally, he would accompany her on her way back to the Abbey, where they would say their good-bye just before they reached the last turn of the path in order to avoid any nosy eavesdroppers. Only recently, Mr. Molesley had – in a sudden burst of self-confidence – begun to give her a quick peck on the cheek every time before he walked back down to the village. The first time it had left her speechless for a whole five minutes in which she stared at his retreating form, smiling a little dumbly until he had disappeared completely between the trees. Even now a few weeks later, the thought still made her heart flutter a tad too much.

But last night had been different. She let her thoughts drift back to the teashop again, not noticing that Thomas had, for the time being, lost his interest in her and was now telling Andy that the silver needed to be polished.

* * *

 

_Over the tea and the book, Molesley and Baxter had completely forgotten about the predicted snow storm that was announced to reach Downton that night. So, when they finally reluctantly decided to call it a night and head back home, they were more than a little surprised that the weather outside had indeed become rather nasty._

_The Abbey was too far away to even think about going there in that storm. But they also couldn't stay in the café forever, which left the two of them in some kind of predicament. The only place that was close enough was Molesley's little cottage near the school._

_"Maybe we should just go to my place and wait until the storm has calmed down a bit?", he suggested. As she didn't have a better plan, Ms. Baxter put on her coat and scarf, pulling both a little tighter around her that she had on her way to the village, and together they stepped out into the cold._

_Upon arriving at his cottage, both of them were not only drenched but also freezing terribly due to the icy cold air. Molesley hurried to put on a kettle for hot water and get the fireplace running. For once, he was not his usual fiddly self but mastered his tasks smoothly._

_When the warmth of the fire had reached Baxter, she immediately felt the tingling sensation of warming up. She took in her surroundings and realized that she had never before been to his home. It suddenly felt like an invasion of his privacy – she felt like an intruder with him buzzing around while she stood there, not knowing where to put her coat or what to do._

* * *

 

Upon thinking back, Baxter contemplated if the better decision would have been to turn around and make her way back to the Abbey alone. She couldn't shake of the nagging certainty that if she had done as her instincts had told her, she would be in far less trouble now. Thomas was bound to find out that she had been home far too late that previous night and she dreaded to think of the conversation that would follow. She could mentally see his smirking face upon the realization of just where she had stayed during the snow storm.

But then again, if she had indeed gone back to the Abbey sooner that night, nothing that had happened would have occurred. And that would such a shame.

It wasn't so much her audible sigh that turned Thomas' attention back to the woman next to him but much more the fact that she'd been staring absentmindedly at him for about a minute or so. She was wearing a deep frown that wrinkled her forehead and that made Thomas wonder what was going on in her mind.

He looked around the room suspiciously, making sure that they were alone, and asked, "So, now that everyone's gone up, would you mind telling me where the hell you've been?"

Baxter snapped out of her reveries and tried to feign innocence, "What do you mean, where I've been? I've been right next to you for the last 10 minutes or so."

"Don't play that game with me, you damn well know what I'm talking about", he replied, "I've been waiting for you. I've been sitting down in the kitchen until well after midnight last night, waiting to lock up. I wonder if I should tell her Ladyship that you stayed away over night?"

At this, Baxter panicked. Her eyes became wider at his insinuation and she hurriedly contradicted, "But I didn't! I didn't stay away all night. I was stuck… in the village, when the storm hit. So, we waited until it had calmed down a little."

Thomas' eyebrows shot up when she said 'we'. "We?", he asked with a smirk, "And who exactly does 'we' consist of, if I may know?"

"You may not", Baxter retorted, leaving Thomas a little taken aback at the unexpected answer. Secretly, her mind was already back in Molesley's cottage.

* * *

 

_Some time later, they were sitting across each other at Mr. Molesley's kitchen table. The constant wind from outside was the only sound that could be heard while they were both silently sipping their tea. Now, at least she was feeling warmer from the inside. Nevertheless, Baxter frowned when she looked out in the dark. What if the storm didn't cease anytime soon? Would she be able to make it back home in time? She didn't even want to think about the possibility of having to stay away from the Abbey over night. Coming back home in the morning would mean that everybody would know she spent the night somewhere else. It would be so humiliating._

_Baxter was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't see how Molesley watched the reflection of her troubled expression in the window. Nor did she notice that her eyes had filled with tears that where threatening to fall._

_"Am I such bad company?" Molesley asked, but the words didn't quiet reach her mind. He interpreted her confusion and explained, "I mean, is – is the prospect of being stuck here with me such a bad one that it even makes you cry?"_

_She gulped in order to keep the tears from really falling and replied, "The worst." As soon as she had said it, she knew that had come out totally wrong. "I mean, no, of course not. Truth is, if there's anyone I'd like to be stuck with during a snow storm, it's you."_

_At this her face had almost softened a little but she chose to resort to panic when she added, "But I have to get back home, I just have to!"_

_"No, you don't. I won't let you go out there to freeze yourself to death in the storm. You can stay here. I have a sofa, you know, and you can sleep in the bed."_

_She knew that Molesley only said all that to ease her mind, but it didn't have the desired effect. She just shook her head frantically when he mentioned the possible sleeping arrangements. "But don't you see? It wouldn't matter. They would still think we spent the night together", Baxter stated._

_However, Molesley was still his usual unsuspecting self, "Yes, like I said, I would sleep down here on the sofa and you - - - Oh!", he exclaimed when realization hit him. In an instant, his ears had gone crimson red in embarrassment._

_She smiled at him somewhat insecure. It was adorable how innocent he was sometimes. "So, do you understand now why I have to get back?"_

* * *

 

The scratching of a chair being pushed back brought Baxter back to reality. It was Thomas who had stood up after finally finishing his breakfast. If she thought he would leave her be now, though, she was gravely mistaken. He was just moving around the room, checking the boards for dust when he conversionally guessed, "I bet it's Molesley you've been with last night."

Baxter knew that he had chosen his words wisely in a way that could make them sound innocent and at the same time imply so much more. "If you know already, why do you ask?"

"I didn't know, I only suspected. And now, I wonder just what the two of you got up to during that nasty storm. Did he keep you warm?", Thomas smirked in his signature way. He was getting far too much fun out of this.

"What's it to you?", she wanted to know, getting agitated at Thomas' implications, "Since when are you so interested in Mr. Molesley, anyway?"

"Only since he's begun to snatch you away", he said casually, as if it was the most common thing in the world.

"I told you already, I did come home", Baxter insisted. She hated the way Thomas liked to twist everything around as it pleased him.

The resolute tone in which she had spoken kept Thomas from replying anything for a moment. So once more, she let herself get drifted away to the night before.

* * *

 

_To their surprise, the storm had indeed ceased to be as ferocious as it had been, when they dared to open the window almost an hour later to let some of the warmth go outside. The small kitchen had become quite a bit stuffy with the heat emanating from the fireplace and so they enjoyed the cold night air for a moment._

_Then, Mr. Molesley suggested that they should grab the opportunity and head back up to the Abbey soon. Ms. Baxter agreed, albeit a bit half-heatedly. All of a sudden, she was reluctant to leave the cozy atmosphere of the cottage._

_They walked in companionable silence until they reached the path that led up to the big house. Downton Abbey was always a sight but it was even more impressive at night with snow gleaming and glistening all over the building. For a moment both stood still in awe of the beautiful vision in front of them. In fact, it was quite romantic how they stood there, closer together than they normally would have – and both mentally trying to convince themselves to blame that on the unusually cold weather._

_Baxter felt how Molesley had taken hold of her hand while they had been standing there and in that moment she was more unwilling to go any further that she had already been._

_"I feel rather silly", she sighed, turning to him._

_Molesley looked at her quizzically, obviously not being sure what to make of that statement. It gave her feeling to elaborate, "Earlier, I almost cried over the thought of being stuck at your place and now, all I can think of is that we will reach the backyard to the servant's entrance in only a few minutes and then we'll have to call it a night. And I dread it."_

_His expression hadn't changed too much during her little speech. If anything, something that could only be described as a combination of confusion and disbelief had mixed itself onto his already clueless face._

_He didn't sound sure of himself in any way when he suggested, "We don't… If you want… we're not in a hurry. At least, I'm not. I can stay as long as you want me to. I'll always be around if you want me to."_

_'What a confession', Baxter thought. There was no way in which she could have misinterpreted his words, when their true meaning was clearly written all over his face. Never before had she understood that expression he had so often had when he looked at her as she did now. It was so full of love that it made the imaginary butterflies in her stomach dance wildly around._

_There was no way in which she could reply differently than to disclose, "I want you to be around, always. Because I tend to feel rather lost without you." It was more than she had ever imagined telling Mr. Molesley, but in the still of the night with no one around but the two of them, it simply felt right._

_He must have felt the same need to express whatever he felt in that particular moment, maybe it was to be credited to the calm after the heavy storm. "Then stay with me, let me make you safe."_

_Ms. Baxter blinked, his words reminded her of that other time when he had said quite similar words once before but in a much more casual context. She wouldn't even have needed the ring he had pulled out of his coat pocket to know exactly what he tried to tell her. Or to know exactly how honestly he meant what he said._

_When she hesitated for a moment too long to give him some kind of reply, Molesley began, pointing at the little piece of jewelry, "I've had it with me for some time now, always waiting for the perfect moment. But I guess, it won't get much better than now, it won't ever feel m – "_

_Before he could say anything more, Baxter had chosen to stop his ramblings by putting her hand over his mouth. "Don't!", she said, shaking her head, "Don't spoil it. This is perfect, don't you ever think that this moment could be anything but perfect."_

_Then, she looked him into the eyes and smiled, "I do want to stay with you. I do."_

* * *

 

"What are you grinning about?" she heard Thomas say. Damn him for interrupting her daydreaming. This was really getting annoying, why couldn't he just leave her alone? In a fit of frustration with the butler's interrogating demeanor,

Baxter stood up, strode over to him and harshly slammed her hand on the table in front of Thomas. "This is what I've been grinning about", she told him, when she took her hand away to reveal the shiny ring that sealed her engagement.

Thomas looked at the table and back up at the woman next to him. Then, he did something completely unexpected – he smiled and leaned in to hug her and whispered, "So, he did snatch you away."

**Author's Note:**

> Like it? Hate it? Please let me know.
> 
> \- lizzie, the crazy Baxley shipper :-)


End file.
